Page 53 of Ashley & the A-Listers

“You haven’t seen enough?” Ashley asked, brushing sweat from her brow.

It wasn’t fair that she looked so downright attractive with her face flushed and glistening beneath the lights. What were supposed to be harsh fluorescents instead cast a lovely glow on her.

She was in her element.

It looked good on her.

“Call me curious,” Cameron said.

“Fine, you up for it?” she asked.

“Sure,” Dylan said, because for the first time in weeks she was speaking directly to him, meeting his eyes, and he wasn’t all that eager for it to end.

“Alright, places then,” she said, and he met her in the middle of the mat, tapping her gloves together.

He sucked in a breath, full of her electric scent, and tried to calm his pulse.

“Don’t go easy on me,” she said. “It’s the least you could do.”

He hated the thought of possibly hurting her, but—well, he had a feeling he wouldn’t get that close.

“Alright,” Dylan agreed. “Okay.”

Cam counted down, and Ashley… came alive.

He watched a determination and calmness settle over her that was honestly a little scary.

He went defensive right away, because he had no choice. Ashley came right at him, no beating around the bush or drawing out the moment. He managed to deflect a few of her hits, but a couple landed, and while they smarted, they didn’t truly hurt.

“Now who’s going easy, huh?” he panted as he got some distance between them.

Ashley grunted and came at him again, no holds barred.

Fuck,he thought.

It was disjointed at first, sloppy, the way he was dodging and attacking. He was thinking too hard about where she was and where she’d be and how he didn’t want to hurt her.

He stumbled back and caught himself before he went down, sucking in gulps of air as they stared at one another across the mat.

Everything around them fell away, except where his feet were planted on the mat and where Ashley was.

Looking gorgeous even while red-faced and sweaty and Dylan was such a fuckingidiot.

His frustration with himself leaked into his movements, and suddenly it was… fluid, the way he and Ashley went at each other.

Feeling that emotion, raw in his chest, made him fight better. Ashley stopped holding back, and so did Dylan, and they circled each other.

At some point Dylan was distantly aware of the door closing, but he was too lost in the moment to connect the dots.

Ashley came at him again, always on the offensive, and Dylan magically dodged her, again and again and again, their wrists and gloves glancing off the other.

Her scent leaked in the room, trying to overpower his own, and it was sharper than usual, aimed like a strike.

“You’re fighting like you’re mad,” he panted after a long stretch.

“Of course I’m mad, Dylan!” she spat, teeth gritted. The next words landed like a blow. “You left!” she growled, full alpha.

It was then that Dylan realized they were inches apart, breath sawing between them.

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